


The Patient Patient

by moreorles



Series: Station 19 Theme Week [6]
Category: Station 19 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Sort Of, because this is crack fic, hurt/comfort's cracky cousin, let's call it hurt/comfort adjacent, unadulterated crack fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 08:19:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17463929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moreorles/pseuds/moreorles
Summary: Written for Day Six of Station 19 Theme Week: Flashover - Hurt/Comfort“I hit the chief.  With my car.  Oh my god.”In which Bishop is a lunatic, Ripley is exceedingly patient, and Victoria tries desperately not to laugh at both of them.





	The Patient Patient

**Author's Note:**

> This made me laugh. I hope it makes you laugh too. Happy Friday!

“Huuuuuughes!”

 

Victoria is in the kitchen stirring sugar into her coffee. She walks out onto the catwalk, takes a sip, says, “You bellowed?”

 

“I hit the chief!” Bishop is franticly flinging open compartment doors of the aid car, grabbing bags and supplies. “Help!”

 

“You did _what_ now?” Victoria asks, and has the good sense to set her coffee cup down before running down the stairs.

 

“I hit him. With my car. Oh my god.”

 

“Where the hell is he?”

 

“I’m right here, Victoria. I’m fine.” She and Bishop both look up at his voice.

 

“Sir, you shouldn’t be standing. Your neck could be broken. You could have internal bleeding. Don’t move!” Bishop yells.

 

“I moved out of the way, Bishop. You didn’t hit me.”

 

“Vic, hand me the c-collar!” Bishop isn’t listening at all. She dumps everything she’s holding at Lucas’s feet and runs to get the backboard.

 

Victoria raises an eyebrow at Lucas, then turns and gets the c-collar from the rig and hands it to Bishop, who steps behind him.

 

“Sir, I’m going to secure this around your neck to prevent you from moving and injuring yourself any further.” It’s an explanation she’s given dozens of times, though never actually to a fire department chief.

 

The c-collar in place, Bishop grabs the backboard and stands it up behind him, holding the straps out to Victoria.

 

“Don’t just stand there!” Bishop urges.

 

Victoria steps in front of Lucas and takes the straps from Bishop, securing them down his body. She touches him gently as she goes, a physical assessment to reassure herself he’s actually okay. As she’s fastening the last strap, Bishop rushes over, pulls the stretcher from the rig, and wheels it over.

 

As she collapses the stretcher to its lowest position, she says, “Help me lay him down.”

 

“Oh holy hell,” Lucas mutters, and Victoria’s mouth quirks into a grin.

 

Victoria and Bishop are on either side of him about to lay him down when Captain Sullivan walks into the garage. He mutters something they can’t actually understand, then yells ‘Wait!’ as he jogs over to them. He takes a hold of the backboard and helps ease Lucas down onto the stretcher.

 

“Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?”

 

Lucas opens his mouth, but Bishop beats him to the punch. “I hit him, Sir. With my car. He could have internal bleeding. Or a broken neck!”

 

“Luke?” Sullivan looks down at him, concern clear on his face.

 

“I moved out of the way. She didn’t actually hit me.”

 

“I absolutely hit him, Sir. Oh my god, I cannot kill the chief.” That last part is mumbled mostly to herself.

 

Sullivan looks back down at Luke, shakes his head, asks, “So you’re what? Playing along? Humoring her?”

 

Lucas rolls his eyes. “It somehow seemed like the path of least resistance. At least it did two minutes ago. She’s… intense.”

 

“Okay, let him up,” Sullivan tells Bishop.

 

“No!” she urges, adding belatedly, “Sir.”

 

“Go check the security footage, Sully. Take Bishop with you.”

 

Sullivan and Bishop hustle off to his office and Victoria crouches down beside Luke, lays a hand on his face.

 

“You sure you’re not hurt?” She sweeps her thumb back and forth across his cheek.

 

“I moved out of the way,” he says for the dozenth time, resignation in his voice. He instinctively tries to turn into her touch, but his head is immobile.  

 

“Okay, Baby.” She bends down, presses a light kiss to his forehead.

 

“I have excellent reflexes.”

 

“Mmhm. Quick like a cat.” She’s biting her lip to stifle a grin.  

 

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

 

“If you ignore the emotional whiplash I just suffered, then yeah. I’m kind of enjoying this. What are you even doing here?”

 

He sighs, says, “I wanted to have coffee with you before your shift. Since I had to leave so early this morning.”

 

She coos at him. “Aw, and you got mowed down for your trouble.”

 

“I...” he starts, and she nods, says, “…moved out of the way, I know.”  

 

Sullivan and Bishop come back and Bishop begins releasing the straps of the backboard.

 

“Well?” Lucas asks, as Sullivan steps up beside the stretcher and crosses his arms.

 

“You moved out of the way in time,” Sullivan says, watching Bishop and trying desperately not to smile. “Although, in her defense, you did go down.”

 

Bishop glances up at Lucas, but doesn’t make eye contact.

 

“I…okay, yes,” Lucas sits up and sets his feet on either side of the stretcher as he unfastens the c-collar himself, “I tripped trying to get out of the way.”

 

Victoria snickers and he glares up at her.

 

“You…Sir…you were standing there,” Bishop starts, reaching out to take the collar from Lucas, “You were standing there as I pulled in and then I sneezed and when I opened my eyes you were gone and I really thought I’d hit you and oh my god I’m so sorry.”

 

“Bishop, let’s forget this whole thing.”

 

“Looked like you hit your elbow pretty hard, Buddy,” Sullivan’s full on grinning now, “We’d be happy to transport you to a hospital for an x-ray, or should we just get the medical release forms?”

 

“An ice pack will be sufficient,” Lucas says, then he turns to Bishop, says, “Go.”

 

As Bishop runs off for the ice pack, Lucas turns to Victoria and Sullivan, points a finger back and forth between them, says, “I see one single incident report about this and the writer is fired.”


End file.
